


Behave

by 401



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dominatrix, Edging, F/M, Finger Sucking, Hand Jobs, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 09:26:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10964397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/401/pseuds/401
Summary: Natasha can make Steve behave.





	Behave

He was learning how to behave.

Steve kneeled, hands by his sides with his fingers just touching the carpet of his dimly lit bedroom. His breathing shook with anticipation and his muscles burned with the awkwardness of his weight pushing into his ankles. Natasha stood in front of him. He could sense her through his closed eyes. He could smell her perfume, taste the remainder of her harsh, teasing kisses on his lips. He didn’t dare move; she had told him not to. Her word bound him in the uncomfortable position, maintaining his submission like invisible shackles.

“You’re a good boy,” Natasha praised quietly.

She ran a hand back through Steve’s hair, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his head back sharply, exposing his throat, as if he could be any more exposed, naked and kneeling in front of her. A smile shivered on the corner of Steve’s bitten lips at the rough treatment. Natasha stifled it with her thumb, pushing it into Steve’s mouth and pinning down his tongue.

“Open your eyes,” Nat ordered.

Steve obeyed. He supressed a moan at the sight of Nat standing in front of him, nude besides suspenders, stockings and sinfully red stilettos. Steve did not care if it was cliché. He looked like a French noir model and he was enthralled by the light from the lamp in the corner bouncing off of her curves, carving her simultaneously muscular and soft silhouette into something even more powerful and dominant. He closed his mouth around her thumb and sucked. She closed her eyes and purred low in her throat, sinking down to her knees with poise in front of him.

She wiped a bead of sweat off of his temple, leaving the rest of his hairline to drip awkwardly and pressed her fingers to his lips.

“Don’t make a noise,” Nat ordered.

Steve bit his tongue as the Widow wrapped her fingers around his shaft and rubbed up and down slowly. He supressed a whine and rocked into the friction.

“ _Please_ ,” He mouthed silently, feeling pure, fraught need creeping up on him.

“Oh, I’ll tell you when,” Natasha smiled. Mischief curling her red-painted lips.

The Captain curled his toes against the floor, desperate not to disappoint.

Nat sped her hand up, pressing her thumb torturously hard against the seam of nerves at his tip. He felt himself getting embarrassingly wet under the grasp of her fingers. He stifled the urge to apologise for the mess.

“Tell me how much you need it,” Natasha whispered against his neck.

Her breath brushed over his skin, making goosebumps prickle over his shoulders. He hesitated, unable to grab the words from the arousal-fogged haze of images in his head.

Natasha struck a hard slap across his cheek. He bit his lip and coughed out a sob through gritted teeth.

“I don’t like being kept waiting,” She sighed calmly.

Steve nodded quickly, Natasha mimicking his urgency and chuckling. He was beyond being humiliated. Anything she said rolled over him, soothing him. She took away any of his control, all of his responsibility. He was plastic and pliable in her hands and she was strong and authoritative.

“I need you,” He finally managed to huff out, “Desperately.”

She put one maroon-nailed hand on his trembling thigh and pressed her lips to his, biting hard until she tasted blood and smiling as he moaned in mixed discomfort and pleasure.

“Steve?” She whispered against his mouth.

“Mhm?” He mumbled in return, his whole body shivering now.

“You can come if you want.”

Steve near enough shouted a moan, grabbing Natasha’s thighs so hard that he knew he would be reprimanded for the bruises he left later. She let him take control in the final moments, as was their routing. She let him pull her onto his lap as he spilled between them, she let him bite her neck and grind her against him. She let him moan, she let him cuss, she let him fall apart.

After all, he had behaved.


End file.
